


Better Left Unsaid

by badritual



Category: Little Women (2019), Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't copy to another site, Drabble, F/M, Gen, In Media Res, Misdirected Feelings, Missing Scene, One-sided feelings, Post-Movie: Little Women (2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22010932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badritual/pseuds/badritual
Summary: Laurie stood in front of the little mailbox he’d built for her once upon a time, his golden key—polished and gleaming—dangling from the ends of his fingers on its red satin ribbon.In his other hand he clutched her letter.
Relationships: Theodore Laurence/Josephine March (one-sided)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 223





	Better Left Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> I just saw the 2019 _Little Women_ adaptation and had this moment of fear that the letter would be gone when Jo went back to retrieve it after learning Laurie and Amy had married. Thankfully for Jo's sake, the letter was still there, unread. But that's why fanfiction exists, I guess.

“Jo.”

She came to a sudden halt a the lip of the clearing, her heart stuttering to a stop in her chest. Laurie stood in front of the little mailbox, his golden key—polished and gleaming—dangling from the ends of his fingers on its red satin ribbon. 

In his other hand he clutched her letter. 

“Don’t read that,” Jo blurted out, in lieu of a proper greeting. She leapt toward him—toward her _brother-in-law_ , she thought, absurdly—grasping for the envelope.

Laurie held it away from her, out of her reach, and used his other hand to hold her back.

“What’s this, Miss March?” he asked in that insouciant, teasing tone of his she’d once loved so much.

Now she found it just a tad bit irritating. 

Jo pushed his arm out of the way. “You don’t want to read that, Teddy. I promise you.”

“You’re no fun,” he goaded her, eyes crinkling affectionately. Like a brother would a sister.

How hubristic she’d been, thinking he would wait for her. How foolish she had been to think she could accept someone’s love without fully returning it, herself, and let herself believe it would be enough.

Jo grabbed for it, her eyes stinging, her cheeks flushing with shame. “Teddy, _please_ ,” she begged, her voice cracking, crumbling with that final desperate plea.

She watched him as he glanced down at the envelope, eyes tracing over the curls of ink that spelled out his name. Then he lifted his head, eyes holding her almost as gently as his hand held onto that envelope. It was as if he’d been able to see through the envelope into the letter without opening it—into the innermost chambers of her heart.

Without a word, Laurie held his hand out to her, the now-wrinkled envelope caught between his fingers.

Jo took it tenderly and stuffed it into her pocket. “Thank you,” she mumbled to her feet, unable to meet his eyes. 

Laurie moved closer and Jo fought the urge to run away as she had done so once, years before. He held out the crook of his elbow to her and gave her a shy, sympathetic smile.

“Walk you home, Jo,” he offered, his voice gentle, kind. 

It was the way he said her name that nearly did her in. She’d always preferred _Jo_ to _Josie_ as a nickname, for the name _Jo_ was as blunt as she felt sometimes. _Josie_ was a girlish, pretty nickname, implying softness and tenderness and all kinds of things Jo didn’t feel applied to her. But the way Laurie said _Jo_ to her now, soft and full of understanding, caused her eyes to prick with tears.

“Okay,” she said, sniffling. She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve before looping her arm through his. “Thank you.”

They walked home together, in companionable silence. When they reached the little wooden gate and the dirt path that pointed home, Jo slipped her arm from Laurie’s and looked up at him. 

He smiled at her and gave her arm squeeze. 

Laurie gestured to the Laurence house, almost apologetically. “I would stay, but Amy is waiting for me, with Grandfather,” he said. 

“You don’t need to explain yourself to anyone, least of all me,” Jo said, reaching into her pocket and stuffing the letter down deep. “Thank you for walking me home, Teddy.”

He smiled at her and reached out, giving her arm another squeeze, before he left her and started home. 

Jo watched until he disappeared inside. 

Once she was certain she was alone, Jo slipped the letter out of her pocket and gazed down at the crumpled envelope. Sighing, she tore it into squares with numb fingers. 

After she let herself in and hung her cloak by the door, Jo went to the fireplace and tossed the pieces inside. She sat and watched as the flames ate at her words, her eyes stinging, until there was nothing left of them but ashes and smoke.


End file.
